


Light-Years Apart

by CelestialBlossom



Category: Gattaca (1997)
Genre: Eugene didn’t commit suicide in this universe, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon, god I love these nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialBlossom/pseuds/CelestialBlossom
Summary: Vincent has been home for about a few weeks now, and finds himself pining over Eugene. However, when Eugene blurts out something Vincent wasn’t meant to hear, Vincent’s not sure where their relationship is.





	1. Misinterpretation

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write a story for the Gattaca fandom for so long now, and I’ve finally found the time and inspiration to do it! It feels so good to be writing again, and I’m so excited about this one! Please leave any feedback, as it really helps me figure out what to improve.

Vincent beamed as he entered the house. Irene mentioned earlier that she would drop by, and since he was running later than expected, she was probably already there.

“That’s IT, Irene! I can’t take it anymore! The way he touches me, how he looks at me...bloody hell, even the damn way he SMILES at me, I, I-I just can’t take it anymore!” cried Eugene.

Vincent’s foot froze, hovering just above the first step of the staircase. Not daring to breathe, he silently set it back down. Neither Irene or Eugene must have heard him come in.

“Eugene, you don’t mean that. I know you don’t mean that.”

Her icy-cool tone sent a shiver down Vincent’s spine. Despite the sudden, sharp stab of pain coming from his already genetically-damaged heart, he still feel somewhat fortunate that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her wrath.

Vincent swelled with fondness and admiration towards Irene for reprimanding Eugene, but it was bittersweet at best. There was nothing Irene could say that could make him fall in love with Vincent.

“Actually, I do. Sure, we’re friends and all that; but at the end of the day, that’s all we’ll ever be. Besides donor-and-recipient, of course.” Eugene paused briefly to let out a harsh laugh. “And the sooner he knows that, the better.”

Vincent could hear Irene trying to collect herself before tearing a new one into Eugene. Fighting the burning sensation in his eyes, Vincent briskly walked to the door, Irene’s angry response drowned out amidst his mind’s vicious whirlpool of Eugene’s words.

He ran blindly, not knowing where he was going but just needing to get away. Once the house was no longer in his field of view, he collapsed onto a bench, released a shaky breath, and dropped his head into his hands.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that there was even a chance that Eugene could like him back?

Vincent knew he had been a bit more affectionate with Eugene after returning from Titan. He knew he should have realized that he was being too greedy, but he just couldn’t help himself; Eugene’s touch was irresistible.

He found himself reminiscing more and more to their first real hug: when Vincent had just gotten back from Titan. His hand had still been hovering above the knob when Eugene had thrown the door open, tugged him down by the fabric of his shirt, and pressed him tightly to his chest. Like Vincent was someone actually worth holding.

It was...amazing. More amazing than even when he had been accepted into Gattaca after one DNA test, or when he had beaten Anton for a second time; and if he was truly honest with himself, equal in incredibility to seeing how small the planet that had condemned him to a second-class life really was from millions of miles away.

Chuckling ruefully to himself, Vincent mused over how if he had actually gotten a few hugs as a kid, he might have become a very different man than he was today. His own parents had never held him the way Eugene did. Or at all, really. And the only time Anton had ever embraced him was when the other option to holding his brother was drowning to death.

That didn’t exactly scream “love.”

Irene was the first person he was physically affectionate with. He loved her, and he still did love her, but in a different way now. She was his best friend, one of the very few people who knew and would ever know his secret. Thinking back to the instances with her in his arms, he was reminded of how her soft and slender figure fit perfectly. Vincent enjoyed that feeling, and would always happy to embrace her.

But that’s not what he needed. In all honesty, Vincent needed to be the one held more so than to hold. He needed Eugene’s bone-crushing embrace, to feel the older man’s strong grip over his shoulders and back.

Vincent had returned Eugene’s hug just as tightly after getting over his initial shock. When the two finally broke apart, he let Eugene usher him inside and mercilessly fuss over him, while openly snickering at his cynical remarks, including a golden, “Dear God, did they actually let their most sensible navigator, the man responsible for getting them off and back on this damn planet, starve in that traveling tin can? I was able to feel your ribs!”

Smiling softly at the memory, Vincent looked up, taking in the peaceful surroundings. A few kids were in the park, laughing together while playing Frisbee. Birds chirping in the trees, the soft breeze rushing through his hair; if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was living the truth. That he was really Jerome Morrow, navigator first-class, tired but more inspired than ever before from his journey to Titan and back.

Maybe that was it; he had gotten so accustomed to living a lie that he had unconsciously done the same in his relationship with Eugene. Vincent had started acting like he was more than a close friend, but it was clear that he had gone too far.

He felt humiliated. He thought that he had been subtle, but any belief of that was dashed after hearing Eugene and Irene.

Right then and there, Vincent swore to himself that he wouldn’t bother Eugene anymore with his fruitless pining. Eugene had helped him achieve his life-long dream, for Christ’s sake. The least he could do in return was not make the other man uncomfortable in his own home.

Vincent sighed, then steeled his expression. It’s the best for both of us, he reasoned. It’s not like Eugene would miss any of it.

God, how did they even get here?


	2. The Landing

The resounding applause and cheers made Vincent’s head spin as he and the crew walked into the main lobby. It felt like his mind was on autopilot, with his limbs taking total control over his actions.

He and the rest of the crew had exited the ship mere minutes ago, all of them exhausted and kept awake only from the adrenaline rush that came from being back on Earth. The navigator glanced to the side and saw the back of a tall, blonde woman directing the crew into formation for a photograph. Vincent felt his mouth move before his brain even considered speaking in the first place.   

“I-Irene?!”

The woman, who was definitely not Irene, turned around, and Vincent gave an apologetic grin, shaking his head and waving a hand in dismissal. After raising an irritated brow, Not-Irene, as his genius brain cleverly named her, shook her head and resumed organizing the crew.

He sighed, rubbing his face. For a majority of the expedition, he wondered how things would be with Irene once he returned. They had been on good terms before he left, but any plans of resuming their relationship went unmentioned.

Irene was smart, beautiful, understanding: an all-around amazing person; there was no doubt about that whatsoever. But if he were being completely honest with himself, Vincent knew that although he deeply valued her companionship, he had no desire to pursue her romantically again.

 _Eugene_ , on the other hand...

Before he had departed, the navigator had mused that perhaps he was finally heading home: to the stars. But once he did reach them, Vincent realized that his home wasn’t in space. His home wasn’t even a place at all; his home was a dry laugh, a whisky-scented whisper, an impeccable fashion taste, a heartbeat as strong as an ox’s.

His home was Eugene. They say that home is where the heart is, and Eugene, though Vincent was unsure if he knew it, could have Vincent’s any day of the week.  

Except, Jerome Morrow was never meant to be one step down from the podium.

Vincent supposed that the ex-swimmer had effectively given him the name, but Eugene would always be the original Jerome Morrow, a man of high expectations who never settled for anything less than what he personally deemed acceptable, and the navigator was almost certain that the ex-swimmer would never accept him as a lover.

If he confessed his true feelings, Vincent could at least be sure that Eugene would be honest, which he was thankful for. The ex-swimmer would most likely smirk, ask if he had left his brain on Titan, and suggest that he go out more. And the navigator would force a wisecrack back, and succumb himself to a lifetime of living with someone he could never have. Or, after a swift, blunt rejection, things would get awkward to the point where Eugene would bluntly ask Vincent to take his samples and move out, their only interaction would involve Vincent paying Eugene the due portion of his salary.

He wasn’t sure which outcome was worse.

A clipped, no-nonsense voice startled Vincent out of his thoughts.

“Excuse me, Lamar, but Mr. Morrow needs to have his picture taken with the rest of the group before his physical.” Not-Irene glared at Lamar. The navigator held back a shudder; if looks could kill, the doctor would be a pile of ashes.  

Vincent grinned at the doctor’s apathetic, almost bored, expression.

“Don’t get fussy with me, Lucille,” the doctor drawled. “I’ve been ordered to give Mr. Morrow a physical right away, and because I enjoy being paid and feeding my family, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” And with that, he took Vincent by the arm and guided him away from the chaos.

The navigator looked around, taking in his surroundings. It was certainly strange to be back. For his entire life, Vincent had a purpose, a drive, a dream. He hadn’t really planned for life _after_ that. But after glancing at the doctor beside him, Vincent felt his worries subside; whatever came next, he knew he could come to his confidantes for support: Lamar, Irene (most likely), and always, always Eugene. 

Jesus, he was in too deep.

Vincent snapped himself back to reality again, and stepped into Lamar’s office. The doctor closed the door, making sure to lock it. Lamar then turned towards Vincent, looking like he wanted to say a million things at once and nothing at all. Finally, the doctor spoke.  

“Goddamn, kid. I’ll be honest, part of me wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

Vincent snorted, but smiled at the doctor with raw affection. He had increasingly missed Lamar’s sarcasm throughout his voyage. Almost every crew member of the ship had been polite and proper to a fault; the navigator was sure he would’ve gone insane without Mark Jones, a young scientist who was blunt, hilarious, and didn’t give a damn to those who thought those behaviors as unbecoming of such a carefully crafted man.

Mark Jones definitely didn’t remind him of anyone in particular, not at all.  

“I hope you don’t mind that I kidnapped you from your photo, by the way. They can wait a day or two for that, they won’t take it without you. You just looked tired as hell, and the last thing you need is Lucius out there trying to position you like a mannequin.” Lamar more muttered than spoke that last part, and Vincent suppressed a laugh at the doctor’s irritation.

“Definitely. The only thing I wanna do is sleep,” said Vincent.   

 “Good, because that’s exactly what you need. And don’t let Jones talk you into a drink. Knowing him, it’ll turn into ten. I swear, the kid’s blood must be 50% alcohol by now…,”  Lamar grumbled.

Vincent laughed. “I’ll be fine, Lamar.”

The doctor’s eyes softened. “Yeah, I know. I’m glad you’re back, son.”

The navigator nodded, his eyes becoming suspiciously watery at the endearment.

He swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden lump in his throat.

At last, Vincent managed to regain his voice. “Lamar, if...if there’s anything I can ever do for you, ever, let me know, yeah?”

The doctor smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Like I said a year ago, you’re my son’s hero. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that.”

Lamar paused, brows knitting together and lips falling into a small frown.

“Actually, there is one thing…”

“Yeah?” Vincent unconsciously leaned forward, hanging onto Lamar’s every word.

 “You’re pretty high up in the rankings here, can you get that demon out there fired for me?” 

The navigator burst out laughing. The snarky doctor never failed to lift his mood.

“I’ll see what I can do,” snickered Vincent, voice full of mirth.

After the thorough physical, the navigator was about to head out when he heard an “Ey, Morrow! Wait up!” from down the hall.

Recognizing Mark’s voice immediately, Vincent turned and smiled at the elated scientist jogging up to him.

“I don’t how you managed to get our picture rescheduled, but damn am I glad you did. We’re finally free, thank the Lord! You wanna go out to celebrate? I don’t know about you, but all I could think about up there was having a drink. Space is cool and all, but, God, what I wouldn’t have done for a cold bottle of beer…,” sighed Mark, gazing into the distance with a lazy grin.

Vincent snorted at the scientist’s theatrics, and internally praised Lamar’s prophetic accuracy. “Nah, I’m good, maybe another time. I’m about to pass out right now, I don’t need alcohol to help me with that.”

Mark hummed in acceptance. “Your loss, my friend.”

A devilish smirk stretched across the scientist’s face. “Ohhh, I forgot; you want to get some alone time with that pretty engineer of yours, right?” he teased, elbowing the navigator’s side.

The navigator winced, his worries of how things between Irene and him would be flooding back to him all at once. They may be worse off than he realized, considering that she hadn’t even shown up for his arrival.

Mark frowned at his friend’s troubled demeanor. “...Trouble in paradise, then?” He asked, studying the navigator in concern.

Vincent shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Before I left, things were a little weird, but we were on good terms. A year’s a long time, though. She might hate my guts, for all I know.”

Mark froze like a deer caught in headlights. Vincent turned around to see what he was looking at, and automatically flinched.

There Irene stood, impressive and collected as ever, but still much different than the Irene Vincent last saw. The woman now standing before him wore her hair down, instead of up in its usual prim bun for the workplace. This woman also looked _tired_ , a public display of humanity instead of the cold, artificial, but ultimately phony perfection that Valids generally strived for. Vincent thought this woman was beautiful.

“Irene,” Vincent choked out, unsure of what else to say.

Irene took a few steps forward until she was just inches away from the navigator. She examined Vincent’s face intently, like she was trying to memorize each and every one of his features.

Suddenly, Irene threw her arms around Vincent’s neck and buried her face into his shoulder, letting out a choked sob. He instinctively embraced her, one arm stroking her back and the other simply holding her against him 

More than aware of their need for privacy, Mark silently raised a hand in farewell to Vincent, who could still see him from over Irene’s shoulder. The navigator nodded in return, and once the scientist had left, refocused his full attention onto Irene.

Sniffling, the blonde leaned back to see Vincent’s face.

“Just so you know, I don’t hate your guts. Apparently that was a possibility,” she said, scowling slightly at her friend’s lack of faith in her loyalty.  

Vincent had the decency to be embarrassed. “I know, I know you forgave me, but I always wondered whether you would still want me around when I came back. Judging by your greeting, I think that’s a yes?”

Irene laughed, lightly hitting his arm. “Of course. Now come on, I came here to take you home.”

The navigator beamed. “Yes ma’am.”

Together they walked to Irene’s car, and as he climbed into the passenger seat, Vincent faintly smiled at the memory of sitting here on his and Irene’s date so many months ago.

His happiness vanished when he realized that he still hadn’t communicated his feelings to Irene. The last thing he wanted was to directly, or indirectly, betray Irene again. Vincent was still thanking his lucky stars that Irene had chosen to forgive him the first time; it was a pure miracle. But he knew that even another miracle wouldn’t be enough to earn Irene’s forgiveness a second time 

“Irene?”

“Hm?” She set down her makeup wipe, now stained with the mascara that had run from her tears.

Taking a deep breath, he took Irene’s hand in his own. “Irene, you mean the world to me. You’ve sacrificed everything for me, and I’ll never be able to repay you for that. I love you, but just, not as...” Vincent trailed off and looked away, afraid of her reaction.

“I know, Vincent. It’s okay. I feel the same way.”

Turning back to face her, the navigator studied her carefully. When he saw nothing but sincerity in her gentle eyes and warm smile, he let his head fall into his awaiting hands, and released a shaky sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve someone like Irene, but he was grateful for her anyway.

“You look different, too. G-good different, I mean.” Vincent blushed, cursing his clumsiness. He desperately needed to get some sleep.

Irene let out an unladylike snort that only increased the separation between old Irene and new Irene in Vincent’s mind. There was nothing wrong with old Irene, of course; he had fallen in love with her, for God’s sake. He was simply proud of Irene’s development; new Irene seemed much happier, and much less afraid to reveal parts of her real self to the world.

“Thank you. If there’s one thing a year of Eugene will do to you, it’s making you realize that living to please strangers isn’t really living at all.”

The navigator frowned in confusion. “You’ve been living with Eugene?”

_You and Eugene are together?_

Vincent felt his world shatter.

The blonde squinted, trying to understand the cause of Vincent’s sudden distress. As the navigator’s implication dawned on her, she frantically shook her head, imploring him to dismiss any thought of something romantic between her and the ex-swimmer.

“No, no, Vincent, it’s not like that at all. You were gone a year, a whole year; a very long time.” Irene whispered, her voice stolen by a wave of sorrow. “We needed each other because we needed you. In the beginning, you were all we talked about. It was...therapeutic. It was almost like you were right there with us.” She let out a ghost of a laugh, tearing up for the second time in the afternoon. After listening to Eugene pine over the accomplished navigator for _twelve months_ , it was almost funny that Vincent could even think that the ex-swimmer wanted anyone else.

Guilt crushed the navigator like an avalanche. While he would never regret fulfilling his dream, he was pained to see how much suffering he had caused the people he cared most for in the whole world. Vincent blanched; did Eugene resent him for leaving? Evidently, he hadn’t come with Irene. As much as he tried to keep these concerns to himself, his tired mind was no match for his ever quick mouth.

“Is he mad at me? For leaving? Is that why he didn’t come with you to pick me up?”

Irene’s eyes widened so much that, for a second, Vincent thought he had maybe grown a second head. The blonde closed her eyes, pressed her forehead against the steering wheel, and began mumbling under her breath. The navigator thought he heard the phrases “lovesick idiots” and “every Jerome Morrow must be more dense than a planet”, but decided that it probably wasn’t the best time to ask. He was just imagining things, anyway.

At last, she looked him directly in the eyes, ensuring that there would be no misunderstanding. “Eugene didn’t come because even though he tries very, very hard to maintain that silly blasé front of his, he’s secretly the biggest worrywart there ever was. Eugene drank himself silly last night because he was so nervous that something would happen to you, he couldn’t take it, and now he’s still unconscious, considering I haven’t gotten a phone call demanding for you to answer. He just couldn’t stop thinking about the odds of your ship burning when it re-entered Earth’s atmosphere, or an asteroid crashing straight through it.”

The navigator couldn’t hold back his snicker. “He knows that neither of those things have happened in decades, right?”

Irene smirked, shaking her head in fondness. “I tried telling him, but you know how he is. 

Clearing her throat, she continued, her serious tone present once more. “You need to understand that Eugene couldn’t be prouder of you, Vincent.”

Suddenly, the navigator found himself lost in a memory of falling on top of Eugene, the ex-swimmer pulling him even closer by grabbing Vincent’s tie and murmuring a soft “I’m proud of you, Vincent,”: a guarded truth revealed only in a moment of pure intimacy.

That was the first time anyone had said they were proud of _Vincent_ . Not Jerome Morrow, not Anton Freeman, just _Vincent._  

As Irene watched Vincent’s expression fill with longing, she wondered that if walking a mile in a man’s shoes was the key to understanding him, maybe flying a few million in them was the key to loving him.  

Starting the car, she said, “Alright, let’s get going. Eugene should be waking up any minute now, so get ready for that call any min-,”

Irene stopped short, only then noticing that the navigator was fast asleep. After turning her phone off to avoid waking the navigator, she realized that she’d never hear the end of it from Eugene if he wouldn’t be able to reach Vincent.  

Shaking her head, she stifled a laugh when she realized Eugene would be too busy fussing over Vincent, especially after being unable to call him on her phone, to gripe at her.

  
Looking at the sleeping man beside her, the blonde gave an amused smirk. _Oh, you’re in for it now._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that it’s taken so long to update, but I had a horrible case of writer’s block with this story. However, I’m finally back from the dead, and more excited about this story than ever. I really appreciate all the support from you readers, because every bit makes it that much more invigorated to keep writing.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! All feeback, including constructive criticism, is always encouraged.


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